Page 25 of Vows of Blood
I could definitely do it again… with somebody else. Alexei might be good at making a girl come, but he’s far from husband material.
The warm water flowing over my body brings me back down to earth. This arrangement is bullshit. And given the way Dad has treated me throughout it, I’ve got a good mind to take off. It’s not like anybody’s watching me now. I could probably just get dressed, pack a few things, and hop a cab to the train station. Hell, I could probably be in Canada, or wherever Annie went, by the afternoon.
I get out of the shower and as I dry off and get ready for my day, I think about what my leaving would mean for my family. Dad’s the big boss in Fortune and while I don’t know a lot about how the money works within the whole of the family business, I do know that if he’s broke, then that means it affects all the people who work for him and maybe even the big, big bosses in Sicily somewhere. I know that if the Mechnikovs decide that now is the right time to take over his territory, they could, and then the Pecora family empire would be no more.
Yeah. That would be it for the lot of us. But when I think about the fact that Dad was so ready to sell me out, well, it would serve him right if I just split.
Maybe. I don’t know.
I get dressed, then look through the closet. Half of it is filled with my clothing, all neatly hung up and arranged by color. Who the hell did all this, anyway? Did my father hire an interior designer or something? It’s ridiculous.
The rental I was staying in is probably gone. The lease is broken and new tenants might already be moved in by now. It’s shitty. I loved that little house.
The doorbell rings, then there’s a knock. I flinch, wondering who would be calling at this hour. Whoever it is, it can’t be for me.
But… I mean, I am the mistress of the house or whatever now. I go to answer it.
Anya stands at the door, her long, curly hair up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a T-shirt and denim shorts. She’s tanned and pretty and smells faintly of coconut. If she weren’t Alexei’s cousin, I’d say she’s a better match for him than me. She seems well versed in this odd old-world Russian thing.
“Good morning,” she says, her slight Russian accent peeking through her words. “You’re up and dressed. Good. You sleep well?”
Hmm. At least she’s not being lewd. “Yeah,” is all I say. “Alexei isn’t here. If you’re looking for him.”
“That’s fine. I was actually looking for you. I was in the neighborhood, on my way to get breakfast. You hungry?”
I am. And, of the family I’ve met so far, I hate Anya the least at the moment. She’s been pretty cool to me through this. “Yeah, I could eat,” I say.
“So,you probably have questions about this whole thing.”
We’re sitting on the patio of a little cafe around the corner from the penthouse. I’m only vaguely acquainted with thisneighborhood. Dad always used to call it ‘Little Moscow’, but now that I’m actually sitting in the middle of it, it doesn’t look any different from any other part of the city. On the way over, I saw a few signs to stores that had Russian lettering under the English, but otherwise, it’s just a place like any other.
I adjust myself in the wooden chairs we’re sitting in. The inside looks entirely too pretentious. Wooden-paneled walls with old-looking lamps in the walls, a bar in one corner of the room that’s curved with bottles in little display boxes above and behind the counter, books on bookshelves built in the walls. I’m kind of glad we’re out here on the patio. I feel underdressed for the inside of this place.
I shrug at her statement. “I don’t know,” I say. “It seems a lot like how things go in my family. You know, except for this whole… arrangement.”
She nods. “I guess that part must be pretty disorienting, but it is what it is. You’re here now, and that means you need to get the lay of the land pretty quickly if you want to survive.”
I snicker. “Survive? That’s a funny way to put it.”
She takes a sip from her coffee cup, her smile faltering a little. “Yeah, well, there’s not really any other way to put it. You might be married into the fold, but you’re still an outsider, Isabella. This whole thing is about trust. You can’t fuck it up.”
I chew on my bottom lip, my nerves poking at me. “Why are you making it like everything depends on me? Isn’t Alexei just as important?”
She sighs and says, “How do I put this? Alexei is… well, in a way, he’s way more important. If things go badly between you, it will look bad for him and in turn, it looks bad on his father. Andhis father is aPakhan.He can’t look bad. They’ll do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
I don’t know exactly what that means, but it makes my stomach turn the moment she says it. She takes another sip of coffee and says, “I’ll be clear. In theBratva,or the brotherhood, loyalty to the family is everything. Our structures and hierarchies are more fluid than other families, and there are rules that apply to some and not others, and in time, you’ll learn about how that works for us as women, but if there’s one thing that is clear, you never betray your brothers. You don’t betray your father. The punishment is severe. You do not want to be on the business end of aPakhan’swrath.”
My mouth has gone dry so I take a sip of the tea. It’s too strong and a little bitter. “So,” I say, “What are you saying? If Alexei and I don’t work out?—”
“There is no ‘working out’.” She says that with a little laugh. “You’ll stay together because if you don’t, Maxim Mechnikov will take his debt from your father. In cash or in blood. Whichever way he wants.”
I look down at the deep brown of the liquid in my cup. “What if Alexei decides he doesn’t want to be with me anymore?”
“Same thing,” she says with a little smirk. “Maxim could suddenly decide that Alexei is no longer as useful as he previously thought. In which case, Pavel will get his chance to carry on their father’s legacy instead.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Maxim deciding that his own son isn’t ‘useful’… That sounds more like he thinks of him like a tool rather than his son. Is that how it is with fathers and their children in this family? I can say a lot about my father,but at least I never felt like a wrench he could take out and use whenever he wanted.
At least, not until recently, anyway.
